


One Horse Town

by SnowWhiteKnight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alyssa Clegane - AdrasteaXV, F/M, Gregor Clegane/Fat Walda Frey - Freeform, Gunslinger!Sandor, Implied Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Nice!Gregor, Sheriff!Sansa, Wild West Tourist Town
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 00:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11725917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: There's only room in this town for one of us.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [devilsbastion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilsbastion/gifts), [AdrasteaXV (incrediblycreativeusername)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/incrediblycreativeusername/gifts).



> Just a short little fic for Sunday funday. :)

“There’s only room in this town for  _ one _ law,” she drawled.  _ “My law.” _ The scarred man in black stared at her, his fingers twitching near his holster. A northern wind blew, kicking up a dust cloud that obscured the vision of everyone gathered in the square watching the showdown. The bank clock chimed six in the evening, and quick as a flash, Sansa drew her gun. The scarred man did the same and they both fired at the same time, but only one of them went down. Sansa walked over to the dying man. “You should have left town when I gave you the chance,” she told him. “It was the smart decision.”

“Never claimed to be a smart man, especially when a pretty woman is involved,” the villain wheezed. “Nice shooting, sheriff,” he said with his last breath. 

Sansa made the sign of the Seven over him. “May the gods judge your soul true, Sandor Clegane.”

**********

Sansa walked into the saloon after all the tourists had left for the day, heading straight for Sandor, who was nursing a whiskey. Bronn had her usual waiting for her.

“Is it me, or was your ‘death’ even better today that it usually was?” Sansa asked her coworker. Sandor snorted.

“It was you.” He downed his whiskey. “Barkeep! Another.”

“She has a point,” Bronn said, pouring another whiskey for Sandor. “Even I noticed it. Especially that one line… ‘Never claimed to be a smart man, especially when a pretty woman is involved.’ I  _ completely _ believed that one.” Bronn grinned and dodged the coaster Sandor threw at his head.

Sansa blushed. She had particularly liked how he had said that line as well, and even allowed herself to believe it for a moment. She and Sandor were just friends, though she often daydreamed about being more. Hells, she practically talked her sister's ear off about him every time they spoke. Sansa looked around the room at the other employees of Lannister’s Wild West Experience. Tyrion and Jaime Lannister, the owners, were playing cards with Margaery Tyrell, the saloon owner, and Brienne de Tarth, Sansa’s deputy. Theon Greyjoy and Robb, Sansa’s brother, were the co-owners of the General Store, and were currently enjoying drinks with Ros Snow and Olyvar Waters, the town barbers. 

“Slow night?” Sansa asked Bronn, taking a sip of her fruity drink. Bronn made the best Hurricanes this side of the Trident.

“A bit. That new bar opened up in the city, and most everyone decided to go check it out.” He shrugged. “Makes no difference to me. It’s not like anyone pays for these drinks.”

“So why go to the bar in the city?” Sandor asked. 

Bronn leaned on the counter, grinning like he had heard the best joke. “Don’t you know? It’s also a dance club. Girls love to dance, and they  _ love _ boys who take them dancing.”

The murderous glare Sandor gave Bronn confused Sansa to no end, but the two men were enemies as much as they were friends, so she tried to distract them before it came to blows. Again. “Hey, that sounds like something we could do here. Have a good ol’ fashioned community dance, old west style, of course. I’ll make the suggestion to Tyrion.”

“You do that. Makes no difference to me,” Sandor said quietly. Bronn rolled his eyes and left to take Theon’s order on the other side of the bar. 

“What? Why not? Don’t you like dancing?” she asked. She had already been hoping to use the event to ask him to dance.

“Villains don’t get to have fun at the community events, little bird,” he said, staring at his drink.

_ Oh. _

“Besides, I have two left feet. Even if I  _ could _ attend, I wouldn’t dance.” He shrugged. “My life, in a nutshell.”

Sansa sighed. She had been hired to play the sheriff nearly a year ago. Robb had helped her get hired, and she had been incredibly nervous to play such a major role. Sandor, who played the villainous Man In Black, had taken one look at her on her first day and nearly laughed his head off. Once he had finished, he told her she was going to have to step up or risk being the joke of the “town”. Stubborn might as well be her middle name and she demanded he explain himself.

_ “You look at me like I’m about to bite your head off,” _ he had told her.  _ “Sheriff’s got to be brave, not a shivering little bird.” _

He  _ was _ rather scary, which made him so good at his job, but she had seen the point he was making. Fortunately, he had grudgingly worked with her and helped her become the brave, dependable sheriff of the fictional old west town of Little Lion Creek. It had been hard at first. His face was half scarred from a childhood injury involving embers in the fire and his brother tripping him at just the wrong moment. Sansa had met Gregor once, when he came by to drop off Sandor’s laundry. He was even bigger and scarier than Sandor, but Sansa soon found out that he was a giant teddy bear underneath. 

“Well, I’m sure we could come up with a script that allowed you to be there,” she said hopefully.

“No script is going to help. I’ll always be the villain.” He sounded so morose that Sansa couldn’t help but reach out to him, to comfort him. “Alyssa is coming. Tomorrow. And she’s going to see me at my worst.” He leaned down, thumping his forehead down on the counter.

_ Oh… oh, dear… _

Gregor and his wife, Walda, had had a beautiful baby girl several years ago. Sansa had only seen pictures of her, but she knew Alyssa adored her uncle and vice versa. He was her hero and she had no idea what her uncle’s role was in Little Lion’s Creek. 

“She’s been insisting on seeing me at work, and… I couldn’t say no. Not again. Not to those eyes…” His voice was slightly muffled. Sansa rubbed his back.

“I’m sure it will be ok…” 

“She’s going to either hate me, or my job…” Sandor thunked his head onto the counter rhythmically. “This is going to suck.”

A light went on in Sansa’s head. “It won’t be so bad, I promise.”

“Sure, little bird. If you say so…” 

**********

Tyrion looked up at the woman knocking on his door. “Sheriff!” he said with a smile. He always insisted on calling people by their working titles. “What can I do for you?”

“Um… I have an idea… concerning my and Sandor’s roles.”

“Oh? Are you unhappy with the current storyline? I mean, it’s a classic. Bad guy threatens a small town, the good guy steps up and defeats him.” Tyrion indicated for her to sit across the desk from him. 

“Yes, and everyone loves it. But…” Sansa licked her lips nervously. She didn’t want to betray Sandor’s trust, but if anyone would understand his apprehension, it would be Tyrion. “Sandor’s niece is coming tomorrow, to see him specifically.”

“Oh? I didn’t know he had a niece. From his sister or his brother?”

“His brother. Her name is Alyssa, she’s seven years old and a sweetheart. The thing is… she looks up to Sandor. He’s her hero and he’s worried that if she sees him playing the bad guy…”

“He might not be her hero anymore,” Tyrion finished for her. “Ok, I can see why you want to change things, but how? We don’t have enough time to write a new script with someone else as the bad guy, for everyone to learn it, and--”

“About that,” Sansa interrupted. “I have an idea, and if you trust me, I’ll take care of everything.”

“Hmmm… You’ve proven trustworthy, and a good storyteller. And I like surprises. Ok, I’ll give you some leeway, but just this once. After this, we go back to the usual script, got it?”

Sansa beamed at him. “Yes, sir! Thank you, sir”

**********

Sansa breathed deeply as the new day began. She had been up nearly half the night planning on how today would go down. When Sandor had worked with her in the beginning, there had been a lot of practicing and in order to keep it from becoming monotonous, they had added in improv. It was fun, and it helped her get to know Sandor better. Now, she only hoped he would recognize what she was doing. If she told him beforehand, he wouldn't go along with it because he was too noble about such things, so really, this was the best way. She hoped. 

The script didn't need as much tweaking as she had feared, it was more the delivery of her lines that was going to sell this new angle. 

Sandor walked through the middle of town, stalking her as she directed a family to the firing range (water pistols only).

“Sheriff!” he yelled. “I'm calling you out.”

Sansa turned to face him, mimicking Jaime’s usual swagger. Brienne had helped her perfect it after hearing Sansa's idea, and Jaime had agreed to help her as well. “Is that so? You and what army?” she sneered. Sandor was taken aback. 

“No army,” he said, doubts in his voice. “Just me and my trusty sidearm.” He glanced nervously to the side and Sansa followed his gaze. Alyssa was on the porch of the General Store, holding her aunt’s hand while Gregor and Walda had a camera and camcorder out, respectively. Alayna, Sandor and Gregor’s only sister, looked like she was trying her hardest to not laugh. Sandor scowled at her. 

“You've got a  _ lot _ of nerve for a man without any backup,” she said. Her upper lip curled into a cruel smile. Sandor was  _ really _ confused by that. “Few cross me as you have and have lived to tell the tale,” she added in. 

“Oh, Sheriff!” Jaime wailed melodramatically from where he stood in front of the saloon. “Please! Leave the poor man be! He is a stranger to these parts and is just trying to help--”

Sansa drew her gun and calmly shot Jaime. People screamed as he fell. He was a bit too much like a flopping fish as he died, but he wasn't half bad in Sansa's opinion. “Anyone  _ else _ want to defend the stranger!?” Sansa screamed out. She set her mouth into a line, all humor gone from her face, as she trained her gun on Sandor. His jaw was practically on the floor, he was so shocked. 

_ “Nooooooo!” _ came a little voice and Alyssa ran out in front of her uncle.  _ “Don't you hurt him!!!!” _ she screamed at Sansa. It was really hard to keep a straight face when the girl was just so cute.  _ “I will beat you up if you hurt him!!!” _

_ So adorable!! _ Sansa thought. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling as she pointed her gun skyward, lazily considering the child's words. “You're spared, stranger, for the moment. But you best be getting out of  _ my _ town. Because out here,  _ I'm _ the law.” She holstered her gun, grinned cruelly at him and sauntered off to the sheriff’s station. 

**********

“Oh my gods,” Brienne said. “That was fantastic! The whole town is buzzing about the evil sheriff who's holding the town hostage, and everyone is getting in on the act, telling the customers various stories about your cruelty!” 

“And Sandor?” Sansa asked, feeling extremely nervous about his reaction. 

Brienne grinned. “He says thank you. Also that you're a fool and an idiot, but mostly thank you.”

Sansa collapsed into her chair. “Thank goodness.”

“So what next?”

Sansa looked up at the ceiling. “Well, I know what to do, but I'm going to need some help. You in?”

“Absolutely!”

**********

Sansa spent the rest of the morning terrorizing the townsfolk. Brienne acted as her unwilling henchwoman and ran information between Sansa and the other actors. It was so much  _ fun _ to play the bad guy, and it was all she could do to keep from rubbing her hands together and laughing maniacally every time she ran into the Cleganes. She made sure to clash with Sandor whenever she saw him, really selling the point that he was the town’s only hope against her. 

By the time her showdown with Sandor at sundown came around, the crowd was nearly triple the usual. Word had gotten to town about a change in the story and people had flocked to the fictional town to see it. 

“There’s only room in this town for  _ one _ law,” she drawled, keeping an evil glint in her eye.  _ “My law.” _

“It's an unjust law, if you ask me,” Sandor replied. 

“I  _ didn't _ ask. You should have left town when I gave you the chance,” she told him. “It was the smart decision.”

“Never claimed to be a smart man, especially when a pretty woman is involved,” he said. 

“Aawwwwww, you're making me blush,” she sneered. “Compliments won't save you from my gun. I'll give you one last chance. Leave my town, or surrender your life.”

“I made a promise, Sheriff. That I would rescue this town from your evil clutches.” He glanced to the side and Sansa saw Alyssa hanging onto every word as she sat on Gregor’s shoulders. 

“So be it. Farewell, Cleg--” Sansa drew her firearm but Sandor was quicker and she didn't even get a shot off. She fell to the ground, shock on her face. Sandor walked over to her and knelt beside her. “Nice shooting, Clegane,” Sansa said with her last breath. 

Sandor spit on the ground near her head. “May the gods judge your soul true, Sheriff.”

It was worth the hard fall and the already blossoming bruise on her hip to hear the cheers that erupted from the crowd, and most especially from one particular seven year old girl. 

**********

“Now remember,” Sandor was telling his niece. “Sansa was just  _ pretending _ to be mean. She's really a very nice person and it would mean the world to me if you got along with her. Ok, pup?”

“Yeeeeesssssss,” Alyssa said, exasperated. 

Sansa stepped forward, giving the girl her best smile. “Hi, Alyssa,” she said softly. The girl gave her a cautious side glance. “I'm so happy to meet you. Your uncle talks about you all the time.”

Alyssa’s expression softened a little. “He does?”

“Yeah! Like how you like to paint and you're much tougher than any of the boys in your neighborhood.” Alyssa puffed up proudly at that. 

“None of them can withstand me!” she boasted. Alyssa grinned and then beckoned Sansa to come closer. “I know the truth,” she whispered. 

“Which truth?” Sansa whispered back. 

Alyssa glared at the adults around them, making sure they couldn't hear her. Once she was sure, she said, “The truth about Uncle Sandor! He was supposed to play the bad guy. Not you. And I know it was because he was worried about what I would think about him.”

“Ah, yes, well…” Sansa looked over at Sandor, who was chatting with his siblings. “He loves you a lot and he just didn't want to disappoint you.”

“But he wouldn't make all these changes just for me,” she insisted. “And I heard the bartender man say you must love him a  _ whole _ bunch to do all this for Uncle Sandor.”

“Love?! I don't-- I mean, we're  _ friends _ but I-- I couldn't-- He's much too--” Her feeble attempts at protesting died in her throat at Alyssa’s grin. 

“Whatever you say,  _ Aunt _ Sansa.”

_ Oh, boy… _


	2. Chapter 2

Sandor walked his family to Walda’s minivan. “Byyeeeeeee, Aunt Sansa!” Alyssa screamed as loud as she could, turning Sandor's face completely red. 

“Alyssa!” he hissed. He turned around to see Sansa waving and grinning helplessly at the girl. 

“You should hurry up and marry her, Uncle.” The shit eating grin on his niece’s face had Sandor grinding his teeth. 

“What did I  _ tell _ you about--”

“She has a point, bro,” Alayna chimed in. “And she's been calling her that for the past two hours. Not one complaint over the title.”

Sandor frowned. “Sansa isn't--”

Alayna punched him playfully. “She is. She's hopelessly and dreadfully in love with you. So go on. Go get the girl. Laters.”

Gregor and Walda said their goodbyes but Sandor didn't really register the words spoken. He somehow made it back to his room in the apartments that were available for the employees, which was only a handful of people since most preferred to live in the city limits. Sansa was waiting for him and talking to Olyvar. Olyvar was gayer than a fruitcake, but Sansa belonged with someone as handsome as him, not some giant asshole like himself. It was an ice cold reminder that snapped him back to reality. 

“Alyssa seemed happy,” she remarked as he let her in. Olyvar had flitted off to get ready for a date, leaving Sandor alone with Sansa.

“Yeah, she loved her day here. She wants to come again, but to see me be the bad guy next time. Can’t believe she knew the entire time…” 

Sansa laughed, a musical sound to his ears. “I know! I was so surprised when she told me. She’s exactly what I expected and a little extra.”

“She’s a little spitfire, alright… Has the weirdest ideas, too.” He opened the fridge to see what was available. 

“Oh? Like what?” he heard behind him.

“Like the idea that we should be--” He didn’t want to say  _ getting married, _ so instead he said, “dating. Absurd, right?” He forced a laugh and popped open the bottle of beer he had pulled from the fridge. He had also found one of the wine spritzers Sansa liked to drink. He had guzzled half his beer before realizing that Sansa wasn’t laughing. Turning around slowly, he saw that she had turned bright red and was staring at the floor while playing with her hair. “Sansa?” he asked, nervousness creeping into his voice.

“Um… that is… I mean… it’s not…” she stuttered. “It’s not…  _ completely _ absurd, you know?” Her eyes still lowered, she walked forward, grabbed the beer from his hand, drink several good sips of it and handed it back to him, looking him in the eye. “I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t say no… if you asked me out.” Her cheeks were bright pink and she looked like that frightened bird he had first met all those months ago, but still just as determined to do what needed to be done.

“You… wouldn’t?” 

She shook her head. “I would not say no to a date.” She took a half step closer, then another, and another, and looked up at him. He set aside the two bottles, staring back at her, confused and hopeful, but mostly confused. “I wouldn’t say no to you if you ever asked me to dance…”

He remembered she had mentioned suggesting an old west themed community dance. He had lied about having two left feet, simply because he didn’t think she would dance with him. “Would you… dance with me right now? Even if there’s no music?” She nodded and put her hands on his shoulders. He put his on her hips and held her close. He loved how she felt in his arms, pressed against him.

“I would not say no to you kissing me right now either,” she whispered.

He blinked a few times, then leaned down a bit to meet her lips with his. It was gentle, at first, then her arms tightened around his neck, his hands sliding down to grab her ass, and she hopped up, her legs wrapping around his waist. The kissing became frantic, each of them unleashing a lot of pent up emotion. His cock was particularly happy as Sansa ground down on him. “Sansa…” he groaned. “I… Sorry…” He set her down on the kitchen counter, pulling away from her.

She didn’t let him go. “Don’t… I… I wouldn’t say no to that either.” She was blushing bright red now, but had started unbuttoning his black shirt. “Actually, I… I really want to--”

_ KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!!! _

Both of them groaned, then stifled their laughter. Sandor whispered, “Let’s be quiet, and maybe whoever it is will go away?” He tugged at Sansa’s tucked in shirt, his hand slipping under the freed fabric to caress her soft skin. She was nibbling on his throat. “Fuck… Sansa…”

_ KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!!! _ “Clegane! Open up!” they both heard their boss yell. “I know you’re in there!”

“Damn Imp…” he muttered. Sansa giggled, but admonished him. He kissed her one last time and headed to the door, straightening himself as much as he could before answering the summons. “What??” he snarled, pulling open the door with a  _ WHOOSH. _

“Ah, there you are,” Tyrion said, pushing past him. “Thought that might work. I wanted to talk to you about today and the changes that Miss Stark made.”

“What about them?” Sandor saw Sansa jump down from the counter and make her way towards them.

“Well, as it turns out-- Why are you so ruffled?” Tyrion asked, taking a hard look at Sandor. “I know you’re pining after Miss Stark so there’s no way you’re entertaining any ladies--” Tyrion stopped suddenly, a look of awareness dawning on his face. He turned around slowly to see Sansa leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen. “Miss Stark! I should have known. Well, it’s good that you’re here, too. I’ll be quick, since you two seemed to be, erm… otherwise  _ preoccupied.” _ Sandor snorted a laugh when he saw how uncomfortable Tyrion now was.  _ Serves him right for barging in, _ he thought.

“Get on with it then,” he said to the shorter man.

“What? Oh! Right, well, the change in the script was a hit! We made more money today than in the past two weeks. So, I would like to thank you, Miss Stark, and commend you both on such an outstanding performance. I would like to try this again, though maybe with of the other characters as well. I’ll be meeting with a scriptwriter tomorrow, get some ideas going. There will be a full meeting for everyone on the matter, so just be aware of that. I wanted to go further into it, but seeing as how I am intruding, I’ll just… I’ll wait for later.” He glanced up at Sandor sheepishly. “Good night, Clegane. Miss Stark.”

After the door closed behind Tyrion, Sandor turned to Sansa, who was grinning at him. “Now, where were we, little bird?”


End file.
